Debt
by C.Queen
Summary: Arthur can't believe how Dom betrayed them and it's tearing him up inside.  But someone waits for him who's come to collect a debt...and perhaps save them both.


Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, let me know what you think, please!

Debt

If his track coach could see him now the man would keel over dead from the shock, was Arthur's dark humored thought as he ran full out with none of the grace or form that had made him a formidable opponent on the track. But he just didn't give a fuck; especially since he was almost at his destination and had yet to remotely decrease his suppressed fury. But he was ready to collapse, he had no strength left, and he knew it. Just breathing was painful, and his legs screamed their agony as his feet continued to hit sand at break neck speed.

There were just some things you couldn't outrun, but he'd had to try.

He wanted blood, he wanted to pound his fists into flesh and watch wounds open and bones shatter. Those were the vicious thoughts rolling around in the point man's normally coolheaded and logical mind as he ran. He wanted to lift his head to the moon above his head and howl his fury and pain for all the night to hear.

It was at times like this that he wished he was the type stupid enough to drink himself into a stupor.

But alcohol would be a really bad idea given his present mood and he was still thinking clearly enough to know it. He had always prided himself on his control and given how thin that control was at the moment he was liable to do something incredibly stupid were he to come under the influence of something that would affect his ability to at least rationalize his behavior.

And Dom would still have betrayed him once the hangover wore off.

The one person he'd trusted to his core. His brother in every way but heart. And his betrayer it seemed.

He could have lived with Dom risking their two lives, he would willingly die for the man and his partner knew that. Why the fuck else would he have stuck with him all these years if not for love and loyalty? Agreed to perform a damn inception of all things, if he hadn't been willing to put everything on the line to reunite his godchildren with their father, Arthur silently raged. His loyalty had been absolute.

But Dom had almost gotten Eames killed.

Yusuf had deserved whatever he'd gotten for what he'd done for money and Saito the same. Ariadne…well the more he'd cold bloodedly thought about it on the way to the cottage he'd rented the more he was coming to realize that she'd known something was wrong, that Dom was up to something and had kept quiet about it. That that was how she'd weaseled her way into coming into the dream with them in the first place. So she had, to an extent, known there was extreme danger for them in the dream and therefore had joined their nearly clusterfucked team of her own volition.

Eames hadn't known. He'd warned the forger about Mal's interference of course, but he'd had no idea how bad that had gotten…or the tricks Dom had had up his sleeve.

And on top of that his own incompetence had nearly gotten them all killed because he'd somehow missed the fact that Fischer had been trained in protecting himself against them.

Damn, he was going to have to tear the cottage to pieces when he got there, the point man grimly accepted as he caught sight of the glowing porch lights he'd left on to guide him back. He'd already taken apart and smashed to bits his custom made dream machine and ripped to shreds every magazine and paper product he'd found within the structure's walls. That plus the run hadn't helped, and he was running out of options.

And then his senses clued him in to the fact that he wasn't alone.

Slowing down, instincts forcing his head to clear, Arthur was suddenly hit on all sides by the fact that he was utterly wasted. He was struggling just to breath, he ached everywhere, and he wasn't armed. Fuck.

Eyes searching Arthur spotted the lone figure on his deck, the shape and build saying male to him.

Doing his best to get his breathing under control the point man continued forward, his heart pounding painfully in his chest as he jogged towards the stairs leading up to his place, feeling something unknot inside him when he got closer and knew, in some primitive part of him, that it was Eames waiting for him there.

Using the railing for support Arthur climbed up the stairs, blinking hard as his eyes adjusted to the light as he waited to see what the forger he could now see had planned for him. "Eames."

"Darling." Came that familiar, bone melting voice. "You know, Arthur, I don't think I've ever see you such a mess before."

Belated he realized how he must look, wearing a simple black tee and track pants, covered in sweat and sand and windblown from the sea air. Lovely, just lovely, Arthur silently ranted, vanity having him run a shaky hand through his hair in a poor attempt to get that under control.

Chuckling, the forger cocked his head to the side questioningly. "You look ready to pass out. Been spending too much time behind a desk?"

He was too rung out to be original or sophisticated. "Bite me."

"I did, as you'll recall."

Oh he recalled, all right. The bastard had ruined him for any other man, Arthur thought as he was torn between loving and hating the forger for that. Two years ago he'd thought to get the man out of his system by giving into Eames's flirting and sleeping with him.

A one night stand had never haunted a man as much as that night had haunted him ever since.

He'd run scared the next morning before Eames had woken, and had ignored the other man's few attempts to get in touch with him right afterwards. They hadn't crossed paths again until Dom had gone to recruit him for the Fischer job, neither of them letting on to anyone that they'd ever been, however briefly, lovers.

Well, other than the forger's constant teasing and delight in seeing him fall out of chairs, Arthur thought darkly as he continued standing out of sheer stubbornness.

"What are you doing here, Eames?"

Reaching into his pocket the forger retrieved a single piece of paper, holding it up between two fingers. "Responding to your note, of course."

He'd passed the other man a brief note as they'd left the plane, apologizing for his own part in everything that had gone wrong. The letter had concluded with an offer that should the forger ever be in need of his assistance he had only to ask. He'd figured it was the least he could do, even though he was now, by God, officially retired from his former occupation and intended to stay that way.

"You couldn't have possibly blown all your money at the tables already."

Eames's lips twitched. "You never get tired of insulting my gambling skills, do you?"

"What skills? It's because you're so lousy at gambling that you needed the money Dom offered you. Given your forging skills you should have made more than enough by now to have retired long ago. If you'd just stayed away from the tables that is." Arthur pointed out, thankful that his breathing was finally under control. Now if the rest of him would just cooperate he might survive this meeting without saying or doing something stupid or embarrassing.

Like pass out.

"How you love to hit me below the belt, Darling." Eames drawled out. "Now back to the promise you ended this letter with. And no, I haven't come about borrowing money or getting your help on a job I had to take because of money problems. For the moment I'm still as rich as you."

"I doubt that. Unlike you I've been saving most of my money."

There was definite amusement in the forger's voice now. "Of course you have. I'd expect nothing less from you. And on that note, you might consider taking a seat before you collapse at my feet."

Arthur's reply was stiff and indicated plainly that he didn't appreciate the other man drawing attention to his condition. "Why, so that you can knock me out of it?"

"That is a fairly amusing pastime, I'll grant you, but no, I meant it when I said you look ready to collapse." And there was a small note of concern in the forger's voice to lend credibility to his words.

Hearing it, Arthur's gaze softening for a moment. But since verbally sparring with the other man was the only thing that was keeping his more volatile emotions under control Arthur pushed aside the softer thoughts and turned the topic back to the forger's reason for coming to see him. "What do you want my help with then, Eames?"

Eames cocked a finger tauntingly. "Come here and I'll tell you."

Back straightening Arthur gave the man a dark look that would have intimidated a lesser man.

But he owed Eames. Owed him big time. So Arthur forced himself to take the steps necessary to reach the other man, coming to a stop in front of him with less than a foot between them.

And as soon as he was within grabbing distance the forger did so, one of the man's arms wrapping around his waist, the other hand coming up to cup the back of his head as Eames pulled his head down for a heated kiss.

)

Nothing could haze his mind or completely focus it the way a kiss from Eames could. As soon as those lips touched his the electric reaction sizzled through his blood, heating and thickening it as he forgot all about his anger, his pain, even the to the bone exhaustion was wiped clean as Arthur's arms automatically came up to wrap around the forger's neck. Hanging on for dear life the point man opened his mouth, wanting the man's tongue and more of his taste, craving it, needing it the way a parched man craved water or a drowning victim sought a flotation device.

And Eames delivered, kissing him with a heat and power that seemed to breathe new life into him, Arthur's grip tightening as he found the strength to kiss the forger back just as enthusiastically, moaning his need to continue the embrace, the connection, rubbing up against the shorter man in abandon.

Shuddering when the man's hands moved to grasp the hem of his shirt Arthur had to fight with himself to break the contact long enough to let the forger lift his T-shirt up and over his head, allowing it only because he wanted the contact of skin to skin. And that thought had the point man pushing the forger's jacket off the man's broad shoulders, making a sound of hoarse need when he threw himself back into the forger's arms, unable to wait for the man to remove his own shirt. He needed to keep close, to drown in the man's taste so that he didn't have to think about anything but how good it felt to be in the man's arms again, to have his mouth and tongue loved by the man before him.

Breaking off the kiss Arthur caught a quick glance of the other man's grin before the forger buried his face against his neck, lips moving across his skin, lapping up the drying sweat the point man had worked up on his run.

"Delicious as ever, Darling." The forger murmured, hands kneading Arthur's ass with a great deal of affection.

"Likewise." Arthur gasped out, keeping a tight grip on the man as he fought back the need to just melt into a puddle at the other man's feet.

Eames bit down hard enough to ensure there'd be a mark tomorrow before speaking. "Is that a yes, then?"

Knowing what the other man was asking Arthur nodded, eyes closing in pleasure as Eames's tongue laved over the bite mark with loving care. Minor destruction of property, mentally swearing like a sailor and the running hadn't helped, but there wasn't a doubt in the point man's mind that sex with the Brit would, at least for the night, quiet all his demons and let him rest. Of course the sex would just be another complication to deal with come morning, but he'd rather deal with his ill fated feelings for the forger than everything else.

He just wanted to be close to the man taking over his body. To remember they were both alive and whole.

So very alive.

The forger pulled away again to unbutton enough of his buttons so that he could lift his dress shirt off his body, throwing it down by Arthur's shirt. "I'm having you here and now, I'm not waiting until we get inside." Eames told him as he gripped the point man's track pants, jerking them and the man's underwear down so that both pooled around his ankles. "So here's hoping you're feeling less tight assed than usual."

"Take me." Was Arthur's harsh reply as he kicked off the clothing, toeing off his shoes so that all he was wearing was his socks. "Take me now, Eames."

In short order they were on the porch, their shirts and Eames's jacket spread out to provide Arthur's exposed skin with some protection from the wooden planks beneath him as he spread out before the forger like an offering, his arms open to receive as the forger settled against him, trousers open and ready as the older man kissed the point man with everything he had, propping himself up on one hand while he used his free hand to stroke Arthur's erection, working him over hard and roughly.

Straining for more Arthur's hips jerked and moved into the man's grasp, crying out his pleasure. "You. I want you." He gasped out, blunt nails digging into the forger's sides in long, angry red scratches as he struggled to keep himself from exploding. It had been so long since he'd been with a man, so long since he'd trusted a partner enough to just let loose and give himself over to the power of another's touch.

"I need you to come first, Darling, or I'm never going to be able to get inside of you."

Understanding dawning Arthur's cheeks flushed with color as he stopped fighting himself and let the forger have his way, shuddering beneath the other man as he came fast and hard, panting as Eames lifted his legs up to settle them on his shoulders, arching into the now wet fingers that slid inside him.

Neither spoke as Eames loved him with his fingers, Arthur calling out the forger's name in harsh relief when the man finally pulled them out to replace them with what the point man really wanted inside of him, both man groaning hard as he worked himself into the waiting heat.

"Jesus, Jesus, Eames."

"Likewise, Darling." Was Eames's husky response, his accent thickening as he took hold of Arthur's legs to keep him in place as he started to move in and out, drawing it out briefly until he was sure Arthur could handle him completely and then he picked up the pace and drove them both hard and over the edge.

)

Murmuring his disapproval when Eames slipped out of him and set his legs back down shortly afterwards, Arthur forced his eyes open as he looked up at the man with a mixture of satisfaction and annoyance that the man wasn't where he wanted him to be. He was especially displeased that the man was putting his pants to right like what they'd just done was no big deal. Orgasms of that magnitude were not to be brushed off as nothing. If he'd had the strength he'd have kicked the man.

Arthur's look of displeasure changed to one of serious shock though when the forger ignored his glaring and…and…PICKED HIM UP AND INTO HIS ARMS.

Jaw dropping Arthur immediately wrapped his arms around the man's neck as he clung, his undeniably brilliant mind trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he was being carried. Like a princess in a fairy tale. What the hell?

"You're going to have to open the door, Darling. I've only the two hands as you'll recall."

Numbly Arthur did as asked, immediately wrapping his arm back around the forger as soon as possible, afraid the man would drop him otherwise. He knew that the man was seriously strong but still…if Eames dropped him he'd have to at least try to beat the crap out of him and he didn't want to.

Eames would win.

As they walked through the kitchen Arthur got a brief glimpse of the living room area, his brows furrowing for a moment in confusion before understanding dawned. When he'd left the room had been littered with torn paper and broken machinery. He hadn't cleaned up…which meant that Eames had while he'd waited for him to return.

"You didn't have to clean up after me." Arthur murmured as they headed for the first door, not the least surprised that the forger knew exactly which of the two bedroom's he'd put his stuff in.

"Since I was one of the reasons you lost it it seemed the least I could do." There was a hint of amusement in the forger's voice as he spoke, which changed to surprise when Arthur didn't let go when he tried to deposit the man on the bed when they reached it. "Darling?"

Hiding his face against the side of the man's neck Arthur's next words were hardly more than a whisper. "I'm sorry."

Knowing what the man meant Eames's response was blunt and to the point. "You've nothing to be sorry about, Luv. Not that that's going to stop me from collecting the open ended bonus you offered though. You know me, always happy to take advantage of nice guys like you."

Loosening his arms enough that he could look the man in the eyes Arthur's heart pounded wildly in his chest over the fact that the forger had just called him Luv. "You…you never said what it was you wanted from me?"

"But I showed you, didn't I?" Leaning down the forger gave Arthur a kiss that had the man melting over its sweetness. "You. I'm going to have you for my bonus for not giving your bastard mate what's coming to him. You're going to devote yourself to me the way you did him, only I'm having you in my bed over and over again until it puts us in our bloody graves, FYI. That's non negotiable, by the way, in case you were wondering."

Arthur didn't even have to think about it.

"You have yourself a deal, Mr. Eames."


End file.
